the taste of you on my lips, feels like exquisite blasphemy
by LittleTayy
Summary: Asriel greeted her with a hungry smile, wrenching the door open more abruptly then she'd expected after only one knock. Her own lips dawned into a wide, eager smirk as heat sparked in her belly and she stepped through the threshold, trying to mask how eager she was. Pre-Canon. (Based heavily on the new TV series.)


**the taste of you on my lips, feels like exquisite blasphemy**

* * *

_Come chase the night with me_

_They say I'm bad, you say it back_

_But you know you don't believe that_

_Eat the fruit that feeds your spirit_

_On your knees, now baby eat it, eat it_

_\- Fruit by ABRA_

* * *

It was as if they were pulled together by some unknown force. Their daemons always dancing around each other whenever they were forced into close proximity. Their daemons as teasing and playful as their words.

Yet, there was a viciousness to them as well. The sharp edge of danger; of danger they presented to _each other_ rather than of outside sources.

It was that danger, Marisa feared, that made it all so _attractive_.

A muted smile settled upon her lips as she gazed cursorily over at Lord Asriel. He was standing opposite her, a drink in his hand, though Marisa had no idea where he'd procured it. The conference had only set out light refreshments and whatever he was drinking, Marisa was almost certain he'd brought it along himself.

The other member of their small discussion said something then and Marisa turned her attention back to the older Scholar. Their conversation was perfunctory but Marisa charmed her way through it, decidedly not looking towards the object of her temptations at all. Ignoring the man had done just as she'd desired and it wasn't long before Asriel was huffily interrupting the conversation with his almost heretical opinions and theories.

The poor old conservative Scholar's eyes widened in alarm and it wasn't long before he'd excused himself from the conversation. Apparently, it was much easier to ignore Asriel's theories when one wasn't there to hear them. Marisa almost chuckled; listening to Asriel talk about his work was a quiet fascination of hers. She didn't always agree with him, of course, in fact she hardly ever did. But it didn't mean she didn't think he was brilliant. A fact she'd never utter to the man himself.

"Do you make a habit of being _deliberately_ outlandish and scaring away conservative Scholars?" Marisa asked, amusement alight in her eyes and voice.

There was still a respectable distance between the pair, though her body urged her to get closer. As it always did. She dared not glance at her daemon, knowing he'd be inching ever closer to the snow leopard without hesitation. Her eyes focused on the man before her, a disheveled mess of a Lord; yet undeniably and ruggedly handsome.

"Only when they're stealing away your attention, Mrs. Coulter," Asriel replied and Marisa almost grinned.

The words sounded almost _petulant_ and it pleased her beyond belief. It shouldn't have, she was a married woman after all. But Lord Asriel was something so unexpected, she couldn't help but enjoy having him tussle for her attention. It thrilled her almost as much as just _having him_ did.

"Stealing from whom? Is this not a conference Lord Asriel? Is the aim not to converse and exchange ideas with many different Scholars?" Marisa questioned, still playing her little game, toying with the man. "I'd have thought you, of all people, would understand the purpose of-"

"Oh, _hush_," Asriel whispered, interrupting her harshly. "You know the only reason I am here is _you_ Marisa. Now, you can pander to your adoring Court. Or we can do something more worthwhile," he told her, voice low, eyes meeting hers intensely.

Marisa's eyes almost rolled fully in their sockets at his words. She knew of course, exactly why Asriel was here. They rarely got more than an afternoon together and the promise of a full night, their first whole night together, had them both almost giddy with anticipation.

"You are a presumptuous one," Marisa replied archly, voice a light whisper. Her eyes met his then and her lips quirked up into a smirk. "I shall meet you in your suite, after dinner," she continued, resisting the mighty urge to reach out and touch her lover.

Asriel snorted. "It's not presumptuous. Not when I know you're as eager as I am," Asriel replied and Marisa simply shook her head, eyebrow raising slightly at his words.

"Do not push it Asriel. I am supposed to be coming to _you_ remember?" She whispered to him as she moved past him, her fingers trailing down his arm in what _looked_ like a friendly gesture. Though it sent a provocative spark through the both of them.

She could not help the minute upturn of her lips as she walked away, her daemon keeping steady beside her. She could feel Asriel's eyes on her body, watching her as she made her way through the room but she didn't dare turn around to look at him. Pretending he was not in the same area as her, was one of her favourite games; it riled Asriel up and made their subsequent encounters much more intense. Just how she liked them.

The hours between the end of the lecture and dinner seemed to drag on and for all her teasing, Marisa couldn't help but watch the time. She kept herself busy, going over her work and conversing with various other conference members. Until, finally it was time for the conference dinner banquet.

Marisa had done herself up for dinner. Freshened her cosmetics, let down her hair and donned a new dinner dress. It was by design really, that she made herself stand out amongst the other Scholars; one of the only women to even be _attending_ the conference, she wanted to make her mark. Not just on everybody else but on her lover also.

It was with a soft, pleasant smile that she sat down in her designated seat, before her eyes found those of the man across from her. Asriel was sitting directly opposite her and Marisa had to hide her surprise, hiding her smirk behind the lip of her drink as she took a sip. She kept her eyes on the man's, seeing the amusement sparkling and the haughtiness in his posture. It became clear quite quickly that he'd arranged this somehow; though Marisa found, she couldn't quite complain.

Dinner passed as a quite lively affair. Asriel, when he was in the mood, could be quite charming and boisterous, able to engage the people around him almost as expertly as Marisa herself could. It was a similarity they should and one Marisa found attractive; though she knew the man tired of it far quicker then she did. His stamina for social engagements of this kind were short; though he excelled with his stamina in other areas.

The very thought had heat rising within Marisa, though she focused on her meal and her conversation with the Scholar beside her, astutely ignoring her monkey reaching for Stelmaria beneath the table.

Asriel left first, with nothing more than a polite goodbye to most at their table. Marisa spent another hour with the rest of the Scholars, weaving her influence around the room before deciding she too had to retire. Her Golden Monkey had been growing quite impatient, despite the game she'd been trying to play with Asriel.

No sooner had they left the banquet hall had they appeared by Asriel's door. This was the part of their whole affair that put Marisa on edge, the slight chances of being caught. Her reputation would be in tatters if someone were to see her outside Asriel's hotel room and _speculate_. It thrilled her but not too much.

Asriel greeted her with a hungry smile, wrenching the door open more abruptly then she'd expected after only one knock. Her own lips dawned into a wide, eager smirk as heat sparked in her belly and she stepped through the threshold, trying to mask how _eager_ she was.

A gasp escaped her as Asriel gathered her in his arms, a strong arm around her waist and pulling her closer as he pushed the door shut and their lips met in a heated kiss. Marisa was swept up into the moment, eyes closed and arms clutching at his biceps and shoulders, attempting to pull him closer. Moments passed before they pulled away, both their eyes wide and feral as he pressed her back against the closed door, a charge passing between them as their hands gripped and squeezed over clothed flesh.

"You seem...excited to see me Asriel," Marisa drawled, voice panting and breathless as she gazed up at her lover, the curve of her lips making it clear she was only teasing.

Asriel growled, pinning her harder against the door as he nipped at her bottom lip. "You play too many games," he replied gruffly against her lips, a hand cupping her cheek almost gently before his thumb grazed across her chin and his palm caressed lower, settling lightly around her neck. Her head tilted upwards, to accomodate his large hand along the delicate column of her throat, her bright eyes finding his, sparkling with excitement.

"I thought you _liked_ my teasing," Marisa purred back at him, a hand moving over his shoulder and down his chest and abdomen, the fabric of his dinner shirt surprisingly soft under hand palm, then lower and _lower_ still.

His free hand, the one not pressed around her throat, snapped as fast as a whip around her small wrist, stopping her movements. He pulled her hand away from him and instead pinned it to the door beside her body. He chuckled at her words, smirk still on his lips as his own eyes burned with desire.

"You've teased enough for the day," Asriel replied lowly, before leaning his head forward and capturing her lips in a hot, passionate kiss.

The kiss was all teeth and tongue, the lovers battling for dominance as their bodies pressed against each other eagerly. Marisa jerking back from the kiss with a frustrated huff. His hands and body were still pinning her to the door, keeping her in place and preventing her from creating the friction she so _dearly_ wanted.

"Are you going to **do** something Asriel? Or just keep me captive against the door all night?" Marisa snapped haughtily, hips canting forward, though her movement was restricted by the dinner dress she wore.

Asriel simply laughed at her words, hand squeezing the side of her neck for a quick moment before smoothing down over her shoulder and down her side, settling on her waist with ease. As if he'd performed the gesture a million times. He had, and as he took a step back he settled his other hand on her waist, freeing her wrist and pulling her along to follow him.

"You talk too much, Marisa," he replied with a groan, as he walked them back, further into the room, eyes on hers. He spun them around then, hands still on Marisa's waist as he backed her up against the rooms vanity, his eyes slipping to their reflected form in the large mirror attached. An idea struck him then, as her hands smoothed up his arms and settled on his solid shoulders.

He kissed her again then, long, slow and passionate. Pulling away, his lips formed a smirk as his hands manoeuvred her body around, turning her to face the mirror. Marisa's back pressed against his front, his desire evident as she pressed herself back against him. Their eyes met in the mirror then, as his hands gripped her hips tightly for a moment before smoothing sensually up her sides and towards the clasp at the top of her dress.

Marisa felt him undo it, a shiver running through her body at the touch, as he moved onto the zipper of her dress. A hand swept her hand to the side, off her neck and over one shoulder as Asriel pushed the straps of her dress over her shoulders, mouth attaching to the bare, exposed skin of her left shoulder. He kissed lightly along her shoulder, sucking slightly at the juncture of her neck before pressing a wet kiss just below her ear. His head lifted just a little, eyes finding hers in the mirror; half lidded and full of desire. Marisa felt as if she were _melting_.

"I'm going to ravish you," Asriel breathed into her ear, voice low and thick with lust.

Marisa's lips fell open, as if to say something but her voice would not respond. She simply lost herself in his gaze, his lips, his hands. His hands that were pushing her dress down and down and onto the floor, stripping her of her underwear as well, fabric falling to a puddle around her still heeled feet. His kisses moved down her shoulder and across the back of her neck, following the crease of her spine, his hands digging almost painfully into the pale skin of her hips.

She moaned, his name falling from her lips with abandon, drunk on the lust permeating the air, sounding like a whispered prayer, "_Asriel_."


End file.
